[ one of the agents had used the word overwhelming, but as jemma finds herself stepping out into the streets of this city - some city called new amsterdam - she finds that overwhelming doesn't even quite begin to cover it. catastrophic, maybe. deafening. the last thing she remembers, really truly remembers, is fitz's hand through the storm. the roaring of wind, of chaos, of danger in her ears. but she does remember him, and his hand, his real, solid hand grasping onto hers.

the next thing she remembers are fragments of thoughts, the haz of sedation, and then being pulled out of a van. being set in an alley. she heard whispers of powers, of new worlds, of morningstar, and then she was in a safehouse. was given new papers, a new identity, told to keep her head down and keep a low profile and she'd be fine. it was her training that kicked in, then. new name, new identity, new place. keep safe, watch your back. don't mention their name. she nods along, goes through the motions, until she's back out into the streets. among the rest of the people.

and that's when she starts to panic.

there are too many people. too much noise. she can feel the tension of it all start to rise from her lungs, to fill her throat. she can't breathe, and the noise is too loud. everything is too loud, and too bright, and too much.

this was a mistake.

she moves to cover her eyes, then, trying her best to work her way through the crowd. it doesn't help much at all, considering the more panicked and upset and scared the feels, the more she seems to notice. little bits and pieces of information about people she thinks she must have bumped into, but all it does is add to the cacophany of noise in her head. ]

F-Fitz? [ that is who she is looking for, that who is she needs to find, but even then her voice feels too quiet and too soft in the face of everything else.

how good are you at managing a panic attack? ]

[ it doesn't take long for jemma to jump into action. whether it's a vague sense or normalcy in the face of unending, absolute chaos, or the fact that the firefighters seem to have other business to take care of that isn't actually dealing with the sick makes it impossible for her to just stand aside. she's still on edge through it, but something about this situation is easier for her to handle. easier to move and get involved.

she's out in the thick of it as soon as she can - how she's got a flashlight, she's not too concerned with. but before she really knew what she was doing, jemma found herself near the medical centers, helping calm those affected by the smoke and fires. smoke inhalation shows itself in various ways, and she knows the basic medical responses. the cannisters of oxygen and masks, settling any of those still panicked. her demeanor is gentle, and she'll even give a small smile. ]

'ts alright, really. Just breathe. [ does she realize that the hand she'll leave on whoever she's treating arm is helping with other symptoms? well. not at first. as long as you let her keep her hand there for long enough. ] Anything else hurt? What happened to you down there?

[ COME AT ME HOMIES!!!! @ disarmingly on plurk or otherwise i can roll with anything. c: ]